


And I Love Her!

by breakfastoversugar



Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Minor Injuries, Multi, the modern college chardelia au we deserve
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:21:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25834915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breakfastoversugar/pseuds/breakfastoversugar
Summary: “Sorry about the wait,” A short woman says as she steps into the room. She is wearing dark green scrubs and a long white coat with the name tag ‘Charlotte DuBois’ and a small sticker underneath that says ‘Student Doctor’. “You’re Cordelia, right?” She grins, and Cordelia’s heart skips a beat. How could one woman be so pretty? This wasn’t fair. Cordelia was supposed to be mad at her for making her wait so long! She wasn’t supposed to fall head over heels just because a pretty girl smiled at her. “Let’s take a look at that hand.”
Relationships: Dr. Charlotte/Cordelia (Falsettos), Trina/Mendel Weisenbachfeld, Whizzer Brown/Marvin
Comments: 10
Kudos: 23





	And I Love Her!

**Author's Note:**

> cordelia's hand gets burnt a little bit in the first chapter, but that isn't actually going to be a huge thing! so if ur squeamish abt that kind of stuff i am so sorry. I didn't go into much detail !

Cordelia stares down at a recipe in front of her. It’s a simple brownie recipe, nothing fancy. Cordelia can do this! She can make the best pan of brownies known to man, woman, child, or dog! Or, no, hold on, wait, brownies are chocolate so maybe not dog. Dogs would have to take the backseat on this one. Sorry dogs! Sorry that they can’t taste Cordelia’s next stellar dessert! Cordelia takes some flour out of her friend’s pantry. 

“So, yeah,” One of her two best friends, Whizzer, says, waving his hand in the air dramatically, “We argued for around four hours straight last night. He’s, like, a real asshole. Super rude. Kinda nice. I think I’m into him.”

Cordelia’s other friend, Trina, laughs a little. She hands Cordelia some cocoa powder and shakes her head. “Sounds like my ex-boyfriend, Whizzer.”

“Has anyone seen the measuring cup?” Cordelia asks, blonde hair bobbing as she opens up drawer after drawer. Trina goes behind her and closes each one. “I can’t find a measuring cup. Should I just eyeball the amounts?”

“No!” Trina and Whizzer shout in unison. Cordelia blinks at them, slowly. What was so wrong with her eyeballing the amounts? She knows what a cup should look like, probably. 

Trina smiles, sweet and tight, and wrings her hands together. “It’s just, uh, well,” She stutters, fumbles, glances to the man next to her for help, “It’s for a grade! Yeah! You want them to be as perfect as possible because you’re going to be judged on them, right?”

Cordelia beams at her friends, picking up the bag of cocoa powder and moving it across Trina’s kitchen. “Don’t worry about that! These are gonna be my magnum opus! My masterpiece! These’ll be the best damn brownies you two have ever tasted!” Cordelia boasts, so self-assured and happy. She rolls up her sleeves, and dumps what she would assume to be an appropriate amount of powder into her dry ingredients.

“Oy vey,” Whizzer mumbles to Trina, grabbing her hand and holding it close to him. Trina shoots him a worried look, but says nothing. Their facial expressions are horrified as they watch Cordelia whip up the desert in front of them. Cordelia, though, does not see it and continues on with what she was doing.

Cordelia looks up at her friends, “Does that look about right? I think that looks about good!” She picks up a plastic spoon and begins mixing them together. “So, tell us about that guy, Whizzer! I wanna hear about him, if he is special enough that you’re actually talking about it.”

Trina moves her hand from Whizzer’s, walking over to Cordelia to examine the mixture in front of her. She’s probably adoring Cordelia’s amazing handiwork. Or maybe her excellent measuring skills. “You  _ should _ tell us about him, Whizzer! Although, if he really is anything like my ex, I have some words of caution.”

Whizzer shrugs and looks into Trina’s pantry, “Do you have any chocolate chips? I wanna eat them out of the bag.”

“Don’t eat my chocolate chips out of the bag!”

“When I get ready to bake my brownies you can lick the leftover batter from the bowl.”

“Thanks, Delia! I, uh, I  _ might _ do that!” Whizzer grins and takes his head out of Trina’s pantry. “What do you guys wanna know about that guy? He’s a schlub, but he’s funny. Kinda cute. He likes theater. That’s what our argument was about.”

Trina laughs. “Whizzer Brown? Interested in a schlub? That kind of guy doesn’t seem like your type at all. I thought your type was a well off guy who could pay for your things and charm you!” She pats Whizzer’s arm sympathetically. “Now you’re just settling like the rest of us.”

Whizzer shakes her arm off and rolls his eyes. “Never said he couldn’t pay for my things and charm me. He’s actually very, very charming. It’s just, ‘ya know, he’s a little frumpy! Sweet though. Cute. I want a drink. Trina do you have anything to drink?”

“I have tap water coming right out of my sink.”

“Alcohol, Trin’.”

“I don’t keep it here for no reason. You know I have helicopter parents that like to drop in whenever.” She groans, bringing her hands up to cup her face. “I’m an adult now! I don’t know why they keep doing that.”

Cordelia hums, stirring her brownie batter together. Was it supposed to be that dark? Was it supposed to be so … doughy? Maybe she should add some more water or oil or something. “Yeah, I can’t imagine being 22 and still having my parents yell at me for drinking some wine. That’s crazy.” She brings up her mixing spoon, watching the entire brownie dough ball  _ thing  _ stick to it. “Aren’t helicopter parent’s kids supposed to, like, go crazy and wild the second they’re out from under their parent’s thumb? When is that gonna happen for you?”

“Not out from under their thumb, yet, ‘Delia.”

“Oh, yeah, right.”

Whizzer watches Cordelia with a grimace. “Are brownies supposed to look like that? Shouldn’t it be more like a batter? And a little bit more … I don’t know … liquid?”

“It’ll be fine!” Cordelia hums, going to preheat the oven. She fiddles with Trina’s oven for a moment before huffing. “Who needs to preheat anyways! I’m sure it’ll be fine!”

Trina gently bumps hips with Cordelia. She nudges her friend out of the way in the nicest way possible, “I think we should preheat the oven! Why don’t you just worry about getting your brownies in a pan and not my mixing bowl?”

The tall blond woman shrugs and begins digging through the cabinets. She pulls out many a pot and pan, but nothing that would be perfect for the brownies. Gingerly, she lifts up a pan and inspects it. “We should use some cookie cutters on them. Trina, you still have the dinosaur ones we got while thrifting last week, right?”

“I do, but I don’t think that brownies that are going to be graded are the right time to use them.”

“Of course it’s the right time! Where is your sense of fun and adventure? You need to live a little!”

Whizzer snickers behind his hand. “This is a trainwreck. If something catches on fire, it’s not women and children out first. It’s gonna be Whizzer out first. I will not help you two.”   
  


“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Trina deadpans.

“Hey! I’ve only started  _ three _ fires at Trina’s apartment! Which is less than yours or mine, Whizzer!” Cordelia argues.

Whizzer raises an eyebrow at Trina, but says nothing in response. Cordelia transfers her dough-batter ball thing into a pan and smooths it out. Trina glances anxiously over at the clock on her wall and back to her stove.

A long, high pitched noise rings out. “That’s the oven,” Trina says, fiddling with her pants leg to quell some anxiety, “It’s done preheating. You can put them in now. Please don’t burn them.”

Cordelia lets out a whoop and slides them in. It isn’t until she’s closed the oven door that a thought hits her. “Where are your oven mitts?” She asks, jumping onto her friend’s counter and swinging her legs. “I haven’t seen them, but they’re gonna be pretty important later!”

“Oh,” The brunette woman put a finger on her chin and tilted her head, “I’m not sure.” She looks around her kitchen, opening drawers and digging through anywhere it might be. 

“Here’s one. I was playing with it earlier,” Whizzer says easily and tosses the bright yellow oven mitt Cordelia’s way.

The blond woman puts it on, smiling at how it makes her hand look a little like a neon crab claw. “Where’s the other one?” 

Whizzer looks at Trina, who looks back at Whizzer. The brunette woman looks quite lost, while the man looks a little guilty. “I, uh, I think you burnt it in one of those three fires, Delia.”

“Oh my god, I forgot she did that.”

“I burnt an oven mitt? Wow! Didn’t know that was possible.”

“Very possible,” The tall man shrugs, grabbing a glass of water, “Because you did it.” He takes a long sip of it and sighs dramatically. “I wish this wasn’t just water. Are you sure we can’t get some alcohol? It would be worth it.”

“Maybe after the brownies. But it can’t stay here.”

Cordelia beams at her friends and wipes her hands on Trina’s borrowed apron. Ignoring Trina’s displeased noise, she hops off the counter and saunters over to Whizzer. “Me burning that thing just means I’m really cool and a baking extraordinaire! I’m gonna have my own catering business one day soon! It’s gonna be called Cordelia’s Catering and I’m going to run it and my wife will support me all the while. We’re gonna live next to our gay neighbors and they’re gonna have a son and our lives will be fun and wacky,  _ goddammit _ .”

  
  


“Sounds like a sitcom,” Her tall friend says, grinning at her, “I wanna be one of the gay neighbors.”

“Of course,” Cordelia says, setting a hand on her heart. Suddenly, a great idea strikes the blond and she looks at her friends excitedly, “Wait, let’s talk about our perfect futures, guys!” Whizzer sweats a little, not looking too thrilled about the idea. Trina, however, looks positively ecstatic. 

Trina twirls some hair around her finger, “My perfect future…” She trails off, “It would probably be what my mother always wanted for me. Very Jewish, very middle-class, where healthy men stay healthy and marriages are long and great.” She sighed dreamily, bringing up her laced hands and resting her cheek on them. “I just want a son and a husband who adore me. Nothing crazy, just something nuclear and cozy.”

Cordelia smiles. “Good!” She cheers, “Let’s talk more about that!”

And Cordelia and Trina do. Whizzer makes comments on their dreams and avoids talking about his own. The other two don’t push it. He seems kind of uncomfortable thinking about it, but will happily listen to his friend’s ideas. Cordelia and Trina toss around their ideas for perfect futures. Trina dreams of a nice, white picket fence. Cordelia dreams of a quaint little city life with someone she can love until the end of time. Whizzer dreams of having a glass of wine at that exact moment in time. He’s stuck with water, though.

“Oh, ‘Delia,” Trina says, glancing at her clock, “You might wanna check on your brownies.”

“I almost forgot!” She says, rushing over to Trina’s kitchen. Cordelia grabs a fork and brandishes it like a sword. It makes Whizzer snort. The blond was going for laughter, but she’ll take what she can get. She turns on her heel and opens the oven, sticks the fork in the brownies, and watches it come back clean. “They’re done!” Cordelia calls out to no one in particular. 

In order to grasp what happens next, some things need to be made very clear. All three of these events happened in quick succession and in chronological order. One, the glass of water Whizzer had taken earlier dropped and shattered at the exact moment Cordelia went to get the brownie pan. Two, Trina screamed, the sound of shattering glass and cold water hitting her foot startling her. Three, Cordelia grasped one side of the pan of brownies with the oven mitt on one of her hands. The sound of the shattering and the screaming scared her though, and so without thinking she grabs the other side with a bare hand. It takes a few moments before the pain registers. By that time she has just barely gotten the tray out of the oven before it goes clattering to the ground.

“Fuck!” The blond shouts, loud and strained and pained and shaken, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Cordelia rushes to the sink, turning on the tap to a nice cool temperature and sticking her hand under. It stings, bad, and she let’s out another ‘fuck’ or ten for good measure.

“What happened?” Trina says, ignoring the glass on her floor to tend to her friend. She walks in the kitchen and takes in the sight of her oven handing open and a pan of fresh, still scorching brownies laying face down on her kitchen floor. “Jesus, Cordelia,” Trina breaths, before turning her attention to her friend, “Oh my god! Are you okay?”

Whizzer follows Trina into the kitchen. Cordelia would be a lot more concerned about how both of her friend’s faces were pinched with worry if it didn’t feel like her hand was still being burnt by the wrath of the sun. “‘Delia, you okay? What happened here?”

“Accidentally grabbed the pan with my hand,” The woman says through gritted teeth, “Burnt myself.”

“Let me see,” Trina orders, taking the wrist of Cordelia’s injured hand. Without actually touching it, she turns it over so she can look at her palm. “Oh my- Cordelia! This looks bad. Like, really, really bad.”

“Nothing a little aloe vera can’t fix, right?”

“Isn’t that used for sunburns?”

“Now isn’t the time for this, guys. Whizzer, close and turn off my oven. ‘Delia, you come with me, we’re going to the hospital.” Trina demands, nodding at Whizzer and going to grab her car keys. Normally, when Trina went into Mom Mode, the other two just went along obediently, but right now Cordelia stays rooted to the spot.

The blond takes a deep breath in through her nose and cradles her hand near her chest. She is careful to not touch her hand or any place that got burnt to any part of herself. “No! Trina, I can’t go to the hospital. I don’t have insurance. I can’t afford it.”

“I’ll pay.”

“Trina, no!”

“There’s-” Whizzer presses some buttons on Trina’s oven to turn it off as quickly as he can, “There’s a student health center. It’s not free, but it would be cheaper than an emergency room or an actual doctor’s clinic. They should be open now, and they do walk-ins. I’ve had to go in a few times.”

Cordelia nods, “Okay. Yeah, sure, let’s go there, then. Can someone grab my purse?” She asks as she heads to Trina’s front door. The world feels like it’s spinning around her a little too quickly, but she has to keep pace.

Trina grabs it, looking toward Whizzer, “Can you grab an ice pack? I don’t know what to do in these situations, but I feel like that would help.”

Whizzer nods, grabbing one out of her freezer and heading out the door with the two women. The car ride there is spent in a tense silence. Whizzer, from the backseat, keeps glancing over at Cordelia, who holds her hand. Trina keeps her eyes on the road, but her hands are a little too tight on the steering wheel and her turns are a little hard.

Thankfully, they don’t have to wait at the clinic for long. After seeing the state of Cordelia’s hand, they take her for treatment very quickly. Waiting for the doctor after the nurses leave, though, is another story.

“Forgot how long it takes doctors,” Cordelia whispers, keeping the ice pack pressed to her skin.

Trina and Whizzer laugh weakly. Their day had been chaotic enough already, and if they didn’t really have it in them to laugh at Cordelia’s very witty and very humorous remarks, she didn’t hold it against them.

“Sorry about the wait,” A short woman says as she steps into the room. She is wearing dark green scrubs and a long white coat with the name tag ‘Charlotte DuBois’ and a small sticker underneath that says ‘Student Doctor’. “You’re Cordelia, right?” She grins, and Cordelia’s heart skips a beat. How could one woman be so pretty? This wasn’t fair. Cordelia was supposed to be mad at her for making her wait so long! She wasn’t supposed to fall head over heels just because a pretty girl smiled at her. “Let’s take a look at that hand.”

“Alright,” Cordelia laughs a little, trying not to feel as dumbstruck as she feels. All anger and, also pain, are briefly thrown out the window as Cordelia looks at the wonderful woman in front of her. Charlotte. Doctor Charlotte. Student Doctor, Charlotte. She must be really smart to get into a program like this. And she must be so kind to want to help people for the rest of her life. And god, she is so, so pretty. Does she like women? When would be a good time to ask your doctor if she likes women?

Dr. Charlotte takes Cordelia’s hand in hers so gently. Normally, whenever a pretty girl touches Cordelia’s hand it’s met with a lot more joy. But considering that she just burnt the hell out of it, the hand touching isn’t exactly the most tender of experiences. It does make Cordelia’s heart melt when she sees just how gentle and cautious the other woman is being, though.

“That looks like it hurts,” Dr. Charlotte whispers, checking each of her fingers with a feather light touch. “How did this happen?” She looks up. Her brown eyes meet with Cordelia’s. Cordelia stares openly, because wow. The doctor, on the other hand, adverts her gaze. If Cordelia didn’t know any better, she would think that she sees the other woman fighting off a small, sheepish smile. But Dr. Charlotte probably wouldn’t do that, smile like that at her.

“Baking,” The blond blurts. The doctor looks at her for a few more moments. She was obviously waiting for that statement to be elaborated on. “I was baking for a class. Then my friend, Whizzer, dropped something and it scared me. I accidentally grabbed the baking tray with my bare hand.”

Dr. Charlotte nods. Her short brown hair bobs a little as she does so. “Did you put it in cool water as soon as it happened?”

“Yeah! I thought it would help. We also kept an ice pack on here the entire way over.” 

The doctor grins at the tall woman. Cordelia can’t feel her feet touch the ground anymore. She rubs a little into the not burnt part of the blond’s hand before seemingly remembering herself and letting it go. “You did good! Doing all of that probably prevented the burn from being worse!” She gives all three of them in the room a big thumbs up. Cordelia blinks owlishly and turns to her friends. She forgot they were there. “Unfortunately that means that there isn’t a lot we can do. But we can put on some antibacterial cream and prescribe you some painkillers. Those two should help the burn a lot. It should be fine in the next few days.” She grabs a clipboard, writes some notes. Cordelia wonders if her handwriting is as lovely as the rest of her. Maybe she would be the one doctor with good handwriting. Dr. Charlotte looks up, and her eyes twinkle just a little. “Luckily, it doesn’t seem to be a third degree burn. So, if you see some blisters, don’t pop them. I’ve seen some guys in here do that. That’ll make it worse. If something does happen and it doesn’t seem to be healing or the pain gets worse, you can come back and let me know. I’ll be right back with that cream. We’ll also prescribe some of that.”

As soon as she walks out, Whizzer gently slaps her arm. “Oh my god. You have the hots for that doctor!” He whisper-yells, nudging her with his foot.

“I do not! … Was it that obvious?”

“Yes,” Trina laughs and shakes her head. She gingerly pats her friend’s shoulder, “It was very, very obvious.” 

“Oh, god,” Cordelia groans, but before she can get in anymore complaining, Charlotte walks back in with a tube of something unlabeled. With the lightest amount of pressure possible, Dr. Charlotte spreads it over Cordelia’s hand. Cordelia holds her breath and tries not to make a scene. This beautiful doctor was trying to make things better. She would make things better! 

“There,” Dr. Charlotte says with a small smile. Her eyes flicker up to Cordelia’s own blue ones, “You should be good to go.” Cordelia stares, starstruck. It takes embarrassingly long for her to realize that a piece of paper is being held out to her. Cordelia takes it with her good hand, and lets her eyes scan over it but doesn’t let her brain take in the information. “That’s your prescription.”

Cordelia makes eye contact again. The world sways beneath her feet. “Thank you,” She says, suddenly more meek than she has even been in her life. 

Dr. Charlotte laughs, and it sounds like bells are ringing. She waves her hand, attempting to physically dispel any sort of indebt-ment. “It’s what I’m here for! No thanks is necessary!”

Whizzer stands, shaking the doctor’s hands. “Thank you for all you’ve done. We were all pretty shaken when it happened. Come on, ‘Delia, you should probably get some rest.”

Cordelia nods, grabbing her bag with her good hand and slinging it up over her shoulder. Dr. Charlotte begins to leave. Cordelia can’t just end it this way! She has to reach out. She has to say something. She should at least ask if she likes women. “Doctor!” Cordelia calls out just as Dr. Charlotte opened the door. The shorter woman turns in the doorway, and Cordelia has to ignore how she is haloed by the harsh lights of the clinic around her. Say something. This could be Cordelia’s last chance, she has to say something! “Thank you.” Fuck, not that! Say something else!

Dr. Charlotte nods. She looks equally reluctant for some reason. She opens her mouth, closes it, reconsiders. In the end, a bittersweet look crosses her face and she nods. “My pleasure, really. Nice to meet you all. Come back in if you have any more problems.”

And just like that, the pretty doctor of Cordelia’s dream disappears into the hallway. Cordelia watches for a moment, expecting her to rematerialize at any moment. She doesn’t, though. “Fuck, this day sucks,” Cordelia groans and hangs her head.

**Author's Note:**

> this is for addie specifically they are a LEGEND for this idea. seriously they are so epic.


End file.
